Cinnamon
by BoxOfTrinkets
Summary: Sam has a problem. She cant breathe around Freddie anymore and she's desperate to find out why. cute:


I'm feeling rather melencholy tonight. I'm halfway through the next chapter of Try as i May and i frustrated the living daylights out of myself because i got stuck, so i banged this out in like an hour. I hope you all like it, i just needed to write something down or i was going to explode:(

this was partially written for madgopher, she wanted something happy lol. this is relatively cute i must say.

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She doesn't know why. And for the life of her she can't figure it out.

She can't breathe around him anymore.

Whenever he strolls into a room with his sardonic smirk in place and the cloud of the spicy scent he insists on wearing follows him she swears it sticks to the inside of her lungs and constricts them so she cant inhale. Or exhale. She can't breathe. Her head swims and her vision blurs and she swears that damn cologne is made of poison or something. God forbid he talks to her and expects an answer. She can't even force a half hearted insult from her suddenly cracked and dry lips.

Then he raises that eyebrow. That god forsaken eyebrow that she wishes would burn in the fiery pit that flickers underneath hell. That eyebrow that tells her that he knows he's slowly asphyxiating her with that damn cinnamon scent and those eyes and he knows and it's like he's laughing at her with that eyebrow. That eyebrow that's the final nail in her coffin and after what seems like an eternity of trying to force noise from her straining throat she runs. usually in the other direction, where the air doesn't smell spicy and her vision is free of dark brown eyes underneath laughing eyebrows and she leans heavily on whatever is nearby and clutches at her hair and breathes, because now she can.

He's trying to kill her

She watches Carly and anyone else he comes into contact with. Their eyes don't water, and they don't choke, they don't go red and that panic doesn't seep into their expressions and goddamned it all they can _breathe_. How the hell are they doing that? He raises his eyebrow and they smile. Laugh. Raise responding eyebrows. They don't run. Or freak out. And she knows they can smell his spice and yet they remain completely unperturbed.

Then he waves to them and turns to her and that damn smirk quirks his mouth and he says _hi Sam _and the mint from his gum intermingles with his cologne and the scent invades her nose and she swears it sucks in all the oxygen she had and suddenly she feels as though she's underwater and her heart pounds erratically and his eyebrows furrow in concern now. He reaches out a hand but she cant move now. Its as though her bones are frozen but when his hand touches her wrist its like she's been electrocuted and she finally wakes up and runs. Faster than she ever remembers being able to.

She manages to stay away for an entire week. A week of fresh breathable air. No panic attacks, no…no fucking cinnamon.

Until Carly left her alone at her apartment so she and Spencer could go buy pancakes. Pancakes? Who buys pancakes? don't you usually make them? You don't buy pancakes. The obvious stupidity of the object in question should have tipped her off. But she didn't think about it. And she fell asleep on the couch.

She awoke with a startled gasp a few minutes later because it was as though someone had taken a vacuum and sucked all the air from the world. It was so dry. Like her lungs were coated with a thick dusting of

Cinnamon.

She sits up wildly and clutches at her throat. She looks around in a panic and she cant seem to find him, the apartment is empty. No Freddie, no air. She cant breathe and she's going to pass out and the room is spinning

But the spinning stops suddenly when she feels two warm hands land on her shoulders and rub in slow, deliberate circles, both calming her and scaring the hell out of her and she focuses and finds that she can take small even breaths. Her heart keeps thudding.

"So Sam." A voice swims through the haze. A hand leaves her shoulder and pushes her long hair over her left shoulder. And the voice gets softer. Closer to her ear. Lips brush against the exposed angle of her neck and a violent shudder wracks through her.

"Why have you been avoiding me."

She chokes on the cinnamon she's been inhaling. She cant form an answer. Her throat works and her chest heaves. She feels gentle kisses dot along her collarbone and she swears her heart fucking stops.

"Well?" He pushes.

She has no answer for him. It like the room has once again been drained of oxygen and she rises and turns so she is facing him, kneeling on the couch. She stares into his deep chocolate eyes and suffocates on the scent that's rolling off of him in waves. He stares right back at her, his damn eyebrow quirked and smirk in place. He knows damn well why she's avoiding him. He knows she cant breathe around him. She blinks frantically. She still cant breathe.

And she's taken completely off guard when he suddenly leans forward and captures her mouth in hers in a bruising kiss, pressing her mouth open and breathing in a long breath of delicious air into her lungs and her head reels from the sudden abundance of oxygen. It tastes like candy. Like cinnamon. His tongue pushes into her mouth and nudges hers almost playfully until it becomes a violent struggle for dominance, much like everything else they did. Her fingers reach and find his thick brown hair and his hands rest on her hips and she can breathe.

He pulls away with his eyes still shut, the smirk still on his mouth. She opens her eyes slowly and waits for him to open his. Once he does she grins and pulls him in for another.

And suddenly she knew why she had so much trouble breathing around him.


End file.
